


Silent Omission

by CaptainNull



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dreamtale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Errortale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Horrortale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Inktale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Blood, Cannibalism, Character Death, Death, Gen, Gore, Horror!Error, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 22:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21187088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainNull/pseuds/CaptainNull
Summary: Ink Sans, proud guardian of the Undertale Multiverse, gets a distressed call from the universe of Underfell. He goes, of course, and discovers that his rival Error, who'd inexplicably vanished, is back... but something is strange about him...





	Silent Omission

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for: gore, cannibalism, and some spooky vibes!
> 
> I had an idea awhile ago for a Horrortale!Error and it spawned this short story. It's my first time writing gore and going for a "horror" aspect, so I don't expect it's very good, but I hope it's enjoyed!

It had begun, he reflected numbly, as their battles always seemed to begin: with a whispered plea for help snaking through his mind like a wisp of smoke or a fly buzzing in one’s ear. Though such a plea was not unknown to him, he still found himself mildly surprised by the quiet cry. It wasn’t that it was particularly unusual, and there were times where such calls came to him several times in a week’s time, but more the fact that the calls had gone silent for quite some time and he hadn’t quite expected them to come back.

Though he couldn’t recall exactly how much time had passed in relative peace, due mostly to his poor memory, he still knew it had been quite awhile since his rival had last decided to attack an unsuspecting universe. If he had to guess, though his faulty memory didn’t make his estimation at all accurate, it had been roughly a month or two since he last fought his rival. No one had seen any sign of the destroyer, not even amongst other Multiversal travelers.

As he buckled on his belt of precious vials and reached for his paintbrush, he mused, “Maybe it’s Nightmare?” Yet even as he contemplated the possibility, another painful cry fluttered through his mind, causing him to wince. He could sense death emanating from the distressed universe. No, perhaps it wasn’t Nightmare, after all. The prince of negativity usually refrained from killing, leaving his victims alive so he could leech from their negativity. Besides, he thought, his companion and partner Dream would have already come and alerted him if it was his brother at work.

The mystery would have to go unsolved until he reached the universe, he realized, wasting no time in traveling through the Doodlesphere, following the call as it echoed from one of the many buckets that were hung in the vast white space. He recognized the mixture of paint when he reached the bucket he needed: It was a swirl of red and black with accents of gold decorating the smooth liquid. Underfell. He wasn’t surprised it was under attack. It was one of the more popular universes with countless timelines. The Creators he worked with couldn’t get enough of the rough edges and angst the universe provided.

Without any hesitation, the guardian leapt into the bucket of paint, his form melting into ink as he used the bucket’s contents as a portal into the distressed universe. As he reformed in the universe, he caught the stench of magic so thick it tasted like copper in his mouth. His sharp gaze landed immediately on the snow that was drifting between the trees and the vibrant blue strings that were tangled in the branches and across the rocky ceiling that domed over the forest. No, not snow, he realized: it was dust that fell.

Error really was back! Though he’d never approved of the destroyer’s actions, the guardian had been concerned by his disappearance, and it was relieving to know he hadn’t just dropped off the face of the Multiverse entirely. His natural grin stretched slightly wider, yet he didn’t forget his current objective and strode forward with purpose, his brush held tightly in both hands as he prepared for yet another fight with his rival. He guessed the destroyer would have made his way to Snowdin Town, and seeing as how the strings grew more numerous the closer he came to it, he thought he might have guessed correctly.

And yet one thing bothered the guardian. It was deathly quiet save for the sound of the wind rustling through the pines and the crunch of his own footsteps on the snowy ground. No matter the universe, he usually arrived to the sound of anguished or terrified screams when Error attacked. He knew he hadn’t arrived too late: the timeline would already be crumbling in on itself if he was.

A soft frown curved his natural smile downward and he looked around warily. Though feelings weren’t something he was familiar with, and his vials only provided cheap imitations of the real thing, something still felt strange here...

Something hot splashed on top of his skull and he paused, reaching up and touching the mysterious liquid with his fingers. Examining them, he saw the clearish ooze of raw magic intermingled with flecks of dust. He looked up.

If his current mix of paints would have allowed it, he would have been horrified.

Entangled in numerous strings that were tight enough to cut into skin was a half-dead monster hung between two trees. As the guardian studied the unfortunate being, he was genuinely surprised that the monster hadn’t yet dusted. Scores of nasty cuts and what looked to be bite marks decorated the monster’s body and he noted that the monster’s belly had been slit, too, allowing the being’s intestines to spill out while magic steadily oozed from the wounds and splattered like raindrops onto the snowy ground. Half the monster’s face looked mangled beyond repair and they were missing part of an eye. It reminded the guardian of a half-eaten gummy eyeball that were sometimes passed out amongst humankind.

An involuntary shiver ran down his back and he took a step away from the monster as the being moaned quietly in pain as the strings tightened like coiling snakes, agonizingly slowly cutting into the monster’s skin. Before the guardian could do anything to stop it, he heard the unmistakable shattering sound of a monster SOUL shattering and he watched the monster crumble into dust.

Even more disturbingly, he thought, was the fact that there were multiple other monsters also suspended from strings nearby. Yet most of them weren’t dusting like the one closest to him had.

This couldn’t possibly be Error’s work, could it? He knew the destroyer’s style and this was most definitely not it. He was a killer, yes. A torturer? Never to this extent. Was someone else causing this massacre and framing the destroyer by utilizing his strings? He really couldn’t be sure and the guardian wasn’t keen on finding out.

He reached into his pocket and took out the phone that Dream had once given to him so they could keep in contact without needing to meet in person. It was a particularly powerful device that could reach across entire universes, though there was a limit to how far it’s signal could go. “Please be nearby, Dream,” he mumbled, his voice muted in the snowy landscape.

It only took a few moments before his friend answered with a cheerful, “Hiya, Ink! Wow, I’m surprised you remembered I gave you a phone. You’ve never used-”

He was cut off as Ink quietly replied with, “Dream, I think Error might be back, but there’s something strange going on.” As he spoke, he walked onward towards the town, spying a few buildings between the trees ahead of him. It was still deathly quiet, though he’d assumed the town would be more lively than the forest was, at least. He kept his voice to a whisper to stop himself from alerting anyone to his presence. “I came into Underfell and I found monsters strung up in the trees, all of them horribly mangled. He’s done things like this before, but this seems… different.”

“Error’s back?” echoed the guardian of positivity, his cheerful tone immediately turning serious. “Do you need back-up? I can come if you need me to, and try to heal those monsters.”

Ink came to the first building that made up the town and crouched low, peering around a corner and observing the street. No monster was in sight, save for scattered dust billowing across the open path. It looked almost like fog and Ink wished it actually was. “I don’t think you can save these monsters,” he replied to his friend after a moment. “Each of them is only points away from dusting and they’re missing limbs and chunks of skin like something tried eating them… “

He carefully stood up and crept onto the road, surveying the open landscape cautiously as Dream exclaimed, “That’s horrible! Ink, I don’t want you to deal with this alone. Be careful, I’ll be there as soon as I can to-”

Without warning, Ink caught the sound of whistling wind and a blue string coiled around the phone he was gripping. It was wrenched from his grasp and thrown against a wall where it shattered and broke, leaving Ink without a way to communicate with his friend. He sprang back quickly and held his brush aloft, listening for either footsteps or the strings. Hearing another whistling sound, he pivoted on one foot and slashed his brush down, cutting the string with a bit of ink sharpened on the end of the bristles.

“Error!” he called, knowing there was no point in trying to remain stealthy now that he’d been found out. “How dare you torture all those monsters? They don’t deserve this!”

There was no response from his rival and Ink turned slowly, his lights changed to a square and an arrow as he tried to pinpoint where Error was attacking from. The string was nowhere in sight and he frowned. Error usually went for head-to-head fights. With his poor eyesight, which Ink had discovered once upon a time, it was easier for him to get up close and personal than it was to attack from far away.

“Where are you…?” the guardian mumbled, his grip tightening on the handle of his brush. He heard something land on the snow behind him, began to turn, and then yelped as a heavy shape barreled into him and threw him down into the snow. His brush was torn from his grasp and he heard the splintering of wood as it was broken in half.

Rolling onto his back, Ink scrambled backwards to give himself a few seconds to think and make a plan, and looked up to see the person he’d suspected of causing all of this madness. It was Error, and yet it was not the Error that the guardian had expected to see. Something horrific must have happened in the destroyer’s time away. His once unblemished skull was now broken; a large, jagged, gaping hole was visible atop his head. One socket, the one beneath the hole, had a series of thinner cracks running down to it, and the socket itself was dark as a cloudy night. The other still had that small white pupil within, yet it seemed even smaller now.

Other details came to Ink as the destroyer stalked closer. His clothes were torn and covered in splatters of magic and dust alike and his bones seemed oddly frail in a way that Ink had only seen a handful of times: from skeletons of unfortunate universes where starvation was common and their marrow was leached slowly from their bones by their starved SOULs. Error’s grin was broad and there was something hungry to it as his white pupil roamed over the guardian. He chuckled as a red, glowing tongue that oozed parted his teeth and ran hungrily over his smile.

The guardian backed further away and rose to his feet, ink dripping from his phalanges as he prepared to defend himself. His magic was less refined without his brush, but that didn't mean he didn't have any control over it without. "What happened to you?" he asked to bide himself time. Studying the other skeleton, he realized something about him was familiar. He was reminded of the ravenous Sans of Horrortale, dubbed Horror creatively by other Multiversal beings and Creators alike, who had joined the team Nightmare had built when hunger finally drove him over the brink of insanity. He'd become a cannibal, eating anything he could get his hands on and sometimes even attempted eating his own allies when he was hungry enough. The crack in his skull was near identical to the one Error now possessed.

He didn’t receive a single word in answer to his question and the destroyer merely lunged at him fervently, red drool oozing between his teeth. Ink danced away from him, throwing down a wall of ink that hardened in an instant to buy himself at least a few moments to think and make a plan. His biggest thought was what could have possibly done this to his rival? Nightmare wouldn’t risk torturing Error thanks to their already shaky partnership, and he couldn’t think of anyone else who would dare try messing with the destroyer; especially if it lead to that nasty hole in his skull.

His questioning thoughts were pushed to the back of his skull as strings shot over the wall he’d formed, launching Error up and over it with ease. The glitching skeleton was snarling like a feral animal and there was no thought to his attacks as strings shot out at Ink. It made him much more dangerous, actually: though he was usually unpredictable, there was still some slight patterns the guardian could see during their fights that he could use to his advantage… but now? There was no patterns at all. Some of the strings tangled together before they could reach him while others missed entirely. Yet the ones that did reach him where chaotically placed and made it much more difficult for Ink to slash them from the air or put up a barrier to stop their approach.

Gritting his teeth, he jumped back once again and reached to his vial, grabbing the red one and managing to sip a small portion of it before he needed to defend himself from the strings once again. His mind focused and he grit his teeth as a mixture of deadly calm and anger rose within him. How dare the destroyer hurt all those monsters? Ink needed to stop him, and quickly.

And yet the strings had been merely a distraction to keep him from realizing where the true danger lay. As he jumped back yet again to evade the arching attacks, rough fingers dug into the back of his shirt and kept him from moving more than a few inches as pain flared in his left shoulder blade. Ink twisted his head back to look - and he saw the destroyer sinking his teeth into his shoulder, causing the bone to splinter in his mouth like a fragile eggshell. Dark magic that smelt of ink oozed from the spider-webbing cracks, and while ordinarily it would have repulsed Error, the crazed skeleton only bit down harder. Ink hissed at the pain and twisted, wishing he had his brush to throw Error away, and his hands battered uselessly at the destroyer.

Monsters were physically weak creatures, and Ink knew that well. It was one of the few things that he subconsciously knew and his poor memory never forgot that fact. Yet he was still mildly surprised that Error had the strength to break through the bone. It shouldn’t have been possible, and yet the wound was visible to see through the torn fabric of his beige shirt. It was the type of wound he’d expect from a hammer or other weapon… not another monster’s teeth. How in the world had he gained that kind of strength?

“E-Error! Get off!” the guardian yelled as sharpened sticks of ink formed in his hands, which he promptly stabbed at the other to try and drive him away. Merely a hair’s breadth away from digging into the dark bone, strings coiled around Ink’s wrists and dragged them back, his shoulders painfully wrenching in their sockets. Before he could even begin to retaliate, more strings caught around his spine and dragged him to the snowy ground, pinning him down so he could hardly move even an inch or two. Fresh ink began to form at his fingertips so he could counterattack, yet a foot suddenly pressed down heavily on the fragile bones, heel pressing down until his hand cracked beneath the pressure. The ink splattered uselessly to the ground and he grunted at the pain, his other hand clenched into a fist as Error tried to break that one as well.

Where was Dream? Though he’d been confident before that he could win against the destroyer before, now he knew he was in grave trouble even if he didn’t have the fear that would normally come with such an experience. His warping eyelights flickered around as if his best friend would come rushing in to save him at any moment, and yet, there distant line of trees were still as a grave. This was not going to be a happy story, it seemed.

Pain erupted in his other hand and he looked back immediately to see Error had somehow acquired a hammer, most likely pilfered from a nearby house, and his hand was in shattered pieces on the ground. An involuntary shiver ran down his spine as he watched the other skeleton eagerly grab all the shards, which still stung quite badly despite being separated from the rest of his body, and swallow them without hesitation.

“What happened to you, Error?” he asked through the pain, his voice drained of emotion. Oh, Ink knew the true horror to all of this, and he wondered if things were only made worse by the fact that he couldn’t be afraid. He felt indifferent, even as he watched the destroyer grab his broken hand and rip off the bones one by one, chewing on them with awful crunching sounds like someone grinding their teeth. “Can’t you tell me?”

The white pupil settled on him a moment before back to his hand, which had been reduced to only a few bones. Error merely grunted and continued to munch on his bones like a cat might. He couldn’t move or break free of the strings and Ink ended up turning his head away, sockets closing as he felt more and more of his arm be taken and eaten. Every bite was something he could feel and Ink regretted the magic that kept a skeleton’s bones full of feeling even after it was unattached. Feelings were hardly known to him, but that didn’t mean pain was also foreign.

He knew it was the end when he felt the telltale tug of his SOUL being drawn out. “Well… Good bye, Glitchy…” he murmured, opening his eyes and looking up at Error as his grin stretched into a hungry, open pit with tendrils of red drool oozing between his teeth. He bit down and there was pain, and then Ink knew no more.

~~~

Dream was panting as he finally opened a portal into the distressed universe Ink had called him from, racing through it with an arrow nocked in his bow and ready to fire at a moment’s notice. He hadn’t meant to take so long to arrive and he wiped the black sludge from his skull with a wince. Oh, why did his brother have to attack him when Ink needed his help? If he had to guess, this entire thing had been planned by the two dark and twisted skeletons. It was just the sort of thing they would do.

“I really have to find Ink,” he murmured seriously, the portal closing behind him as he set off through the town, watching every nook and cranny with a hawk-like view. Fighting in towns always unnerved him a bit: who knew what would come flying out of any window, door, or alleyway? What could be hiding behind a dumpster that could leap at him before he had a chance to react? When Dream did have to fight, he always preferred open areas like fields. Less chance of a surprise attack then.

Yet nothing came launching at him as he trekked through the quaint little town of Snowdin. It was almost peaceful, but he knew it was dust that drifted on the thin wind and there was magic splattered here and there from some unfortunate SOUL being attacked or killed. There was no positivity to be found and he felt weak, but he pressed on. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to fight in such a condition.

As he headed closer towards the forest and the edge of town, a sound came to him… a faint grunting noise that reminded him of a hungry animal eating with gusto. Dream wondered at the sound, the first he’d heard since he’d arrived, and he crept that way.

Peering around the corner of a house and in the direction of the sound, pure horror filled him and he screeched, stumbling back and feeling like he’d throw up.

There was Error, bent over a skeletal shape he recognized well. The beige clothing were stained black with ink-based magic and the belt of vials had been cast aside, unneeded by the glitching being. Dream’s large lights settled on the abdomen, which had been broken into as the destroyer grabbed at the ribs and sucked as much magic out of them as he could before every bit of discarded bone turned to dust.

His screech drew the attention of the crazed skeleton and he watched, chest heaving, as the other being turned to face him with a grin that froze Dream in place. Black magic mixed with red drool ran down his chin freely and Error lurched to his feet in a way that reminded him of a spider.

Error started towards him and poor Dream, overwhelmed with fear and a sickening feeling, found himself on his knees and throwing up whatever he’d eaten for breakfast.

A pained shriek filled the air soon enough that echoed through the dust-filled forest before it faded to silence...


End file.
